


Trust

by Evayna



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evayna/pseuds/Evayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alicia wakes up one day a little different. She can tell when people are lying; a dangerous power for a lawyer. This ability gives her a new perspective on the firm, her campaign, herself, and Finn Polmar. How can she make sense of what's going on and find balance with her integrity?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galfridian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galfridian/gifts).



After a dozen or so pitying looks from Grace and at least two dozen new age health emails from her mother, Alicia was forgoing wine for at least a couple days. Her nighttime ritual was completely disturbed. Rather than a nice merlot, she was having a cup of some special tea Veronica had sent her. "Very cleansing," she'd written, in between two leaf emoticons. It tasted like minty dirt with a hint of hibiscus, but it went down easy, and Alicia did feel a little more relaxed. Sliding beneath her sheets she took some deep breaths. She was going to give this a shot.  
  
 _At the end of a hallway, Kalinda was in front of her. "Who's Leela?" Alicia asked, but Kalinda couldn't hear her; she just turned away._  
  
 _Alicia looked to her right, and opened the door into an office. Will was sitting in his chair, like nothing had ever happened to him. Her voice broke. "What did you say, in the second message?" He looked at her, very still, and didn't say a word._  
  
 _She looked behind her, and she was in the apartment. Zach was at the door; opening it to leave. "Where are you going?" she asked him. He smiled at her, her little boy, but when he opened the door outside there was just smoke. He stepped out into it and disappeared, while she just stood there, alone. The floor began to break apart under her, crumbling to pieces. But instead of falling into smoke, she fell into light. Bright golden light shone around her. She could feel it flowing through her skin and through her veins. It was changing her, charging her like a current_. _Part of her._  
  
She woke up squinting against the sunlight cast across her bed. The clock showed a minute before her alarm would go off. Not bad, she'd slept through the night just fine. "Day one," she said to herself. She threw the sheets aside, stood up, and immediately the alarm went off. And her phone started vibrating. And the apartment buzzer rang. Her shoulders fell. This was more like it.  
  
-  
  
There's triage to do when everything is coming all at once. The alarm is annoying, and doesn't require her to speak, so that's first. Whoever's downstairs probably won't just leave right away and shouldn't see her dressed like this, so the phone is next. She cleared her throat and took the call. "Hello?"  
  
Eli's voice bounded out from the other side: "Alicia we need to adjust your schedule."  
  
"Right now?" She squeezed the phone between shoulder and ear, getting dressed. "We still have the meeting with the south side neighbourhood watch, right?"  
  
"What? Of course not, they cancelled yesterday- How do you not know that? Johnny really needs to get you a day planner app. It's extremely important-"  
  
"Slow down, Eli. I just woke up. So what's changed now, the photo op at the teen centre?" She just realized her socks didn't actually match. One was a dark navy and the other was black. No one would notice right? She didn't have time to find another sock, she still had to answer whoever was buzzing the apartment.  
  
"No the photo op is still on, but it's been expanded now into an interview and-"  
  
"Wait, why are you telling me this instead of Johnny?"  
  
"He's… busy."  
  
"And you're not?"  
  
"Of course I'm busy, I'm just helping out."  
  
Helping out? Alicia crossed the apartment, pacing her way to the intercom. "Eli, what is Johnny doing right now?"  
  
"He's meeting with the web developers. Something about optimizing the site."  
  
Lie. Why was he lying about this? It seems so trivial.  
  
"Eli. Where is Johnny?"  
  
His voice got cocky. "I just told you, Alicia. The most important thing is this schedule change so can I just-" Another lie, but this time the buzzer went off, perfectly timed.  
  
"Hold on a minute." She pressed the phone to her chest and pressed through on the intercom. "Hello?"  
  
"Alicia, it's Diane. I just need to drop something off."  
  
"Come on up!" She rang her through and lifted the phone back to her ear. "Eli-"  
  
"Listen, I don't have time to be put on hold, I'm very busy, and I am not supposed to be too involved in this campaign-"  
  
"So tell me what my campaign manager is doing and why you're covering for him."  
  
"Alicia!" Eli spouted.  
  
She could hear the elevator ding, and was done with this conversation. So she hung up. She ran her fingers through her hair once before there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Diane in a blue dress, looking pleased.  
  
"Good morning, Alicia. May I come in?"  
  
"Of course! Sorry I didn't answer the buzzer sooner, I was-"  
  
"Asleep, as anyone should be this early. And you have a bit of..." Diane gestured at the corner of her eye.  
  
"Oh!" Alicia cleaned away some sleep gunk, suddenly worried how bad her breath might be. "So what are you here to drop off?"  
  
"Well, obviously everyone at the firm understands you need to devote time to your campaign..."  
  
Yep, that was a lie.  
  
"But we still need you to do some amount of work, seeing as you're a named partner. So I suggested giving you cases that would be quickly plea bargained away to give you some scheduling flexibility."  
  
"Oh. Thank you."  
  
"Yes, well, they're not the most glamourous clients of course. This man," she said, holding up a folder, "claims he was drunk and thought the unmarked police car was his own. And that he thought he'd left his keys in the trunk."  
  
Alicia grimaced. "Are we sure we need a partner on this? I think one of the first years might be better suited."  
  
"If you can put aside 120 hours for litigation this month, we'd be happy to have you on a bigger case. Is that a possibility for you?" Her sculpted eyebrows raised.  
  
Alicia knew not to entertain the thought. "No, I don't think it will be."  
  
Diane placed the packet of file folders on the kitchen table and adjusted her gloves. "You know, Alicia?" She stiffened and looked her host in the eye. "I hope you win."  
  
Alicia knew she was truly sincere.  
  
"Even if it means a major sacrifice to the firm, we're all rooting for you." Diane smiled quickly and then opened the door to go. "See you again soon."  
  
Alicia was left alone in the apartment, a faint taste of smoke on her tongue. Not like a cigarette, but like... a lie. There had been tension at Florrick Agos since they started it, and Florrick Agos  & Lockhart had only gotten tenser. What was next, just Florrick Lockhart? With Castro coming after them it had seemed like running for State Attorney would be good for the firm, but perhaps her campaign was taking a leg out from under the table. It hurt her a little that Diane was coddling her, pretending everything was fine. But perhaps it was for the best. Better than being chastised.  
  
Alicia looked at herself in the hall mirror. "White lies."  
  
-  
  
Showered and fed and primped and primed, Alicia finally left the apartment. She smoothed the front of her plum blazer before the elevator doors opened. Her neighbour was there, holding a wilting peace lily.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Good morning."  
  
She stood by the button panel and pressed 'close doors'. She smiled awkwardly, "Not much of a green thumb?"  
  
"What?" her neighbour said. She was shorter, with frizzy black hair."Oh, this. Yeah, I didn't water it enough."  
  
"Yes you did."  
  
"What?"  
  
 _Wait, what._ Alicia couldn't believe she'd said that aloud. Or that she'd known her neighbour was lying. How would she know?  
  
"Uh, the leaves. They look a little yellow. Maybe you're over-watering?" Great, now she was lying too.  
  
"You know what? It's none of your business."  
  
The elevator dinged and the neighbour trotted off. Alicia was only more confused. She didn't know anything about plants. But if her neighbour wasn't lying, why did she respond so defensively? It's the same thing as happened with Eli; maybe she was just getting on everyone's nerves today. The elevator doors started to close, and she caught them with her hand. Something was definitely off.  
  
-  
  
The three files Diane had given her sat in the passenger's seat. She'd read the car thief file already, and when she called the station learned he'd already written his confession. Not much to do there except ease it along. At a red light she turned through the second one. Looks like some guy killed his girlfriend, lovely. Traffic was slow and she skimmed the third. The drive to work was never so long.  
  
After the fifth red light she turned on the radio. Taylor Swift faded out to a dj talking about the Cubs game tonight, "-with that hand injury he's gonna be out for a week, but the game tonight still looks like a real close one."  
  
"Yeah right!" she scoffed.  
  
If she wasn't already stopped at a red light, she would've hit the brakes. Something was _definitely_ off today. This was not normal. She didn't even know who the Cubs are playing against tonight, how would she know what chances they stood? She didn't know plants or her neighbour that well, she didn't know what Johnny might be getting up to, she didn't have any reason to think Diane wants her to win the election since it'll be pitting her against the firm. Alicia looked at the events of the morning, trying to pinpoint where this irrational certainty had come from. She had just known. It had seemed obvious. When Diana said she was rooting for Alicia, it felt kind of normal, but a little... warm? Like drying off in the sun after swimming at the beach, when the sun kind of goes right through you. So what had it been like when Eli lied? It wasn't cold or anything. No perfect opposite. It was more about the feel- no, the taste of it. Like there was smoke in the air.  
  
No, this was all absurd. She needed another coffee and she needed to stop prodding at everyone; including herself. But as she pulled into the car park, there was still a little spring of curiousity bubbling inside her. It wouldn't be ridiculous for her to test it. It'd be scientific even. No mysterious feelings, just predictable reactions to stimuli.  
  
She walked into the office with a little bit of manufactured confidence, ready to meet with her first loser client.  
  
-  
  
Across the table was a meek looking woman with freckles and a very large purse on her lap. Alicia gave her a reassuring smile before putting her poker face on.  
  
"Your name is Valerie Kelling?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Two Ls. In Kelling, I mean. Not in Valerie."  
  
"I see." Alicia took note. She'd seen lie detectors enough times to know you ask some basic control questions first. "And this is your current address?" She slid a filled out form towards the client.  
  
"Uh huh. But I'm only there sometimes."  
  
"Sometimes?"  
  
"I spend a lot of time at my girlfriend's. Well, I used to. I might not now, we kind of had a fight. But we might work things out. And then I might move in!"  
  
"Ok, so I don't think we'll need that information right now," Alicia said, jotting down notes.  
  
Valerie's train had already left though. "I mean, I don't think I said anything too terrible, but I did pour like 4 of her energy drinks onto the plant her mom bought her. Like, does she not understand that she's so anxious and irritable because of the caffeine she consumes? That stuff is toxic, not just to the body but relationships too, you know?"  
  
Alicia put out her hand. "Valerie?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"However things go with your girlfriend, we need to focus on this lawsuit right now, okay?"  
  
Valerie's shoulders dropped and her resolve rose. "Okay. Let's focus."  
  
Alicia of course, was anything but focused. She had expected some simple answers to simple questions to analyze her new found... abilities. But Valerie had spoken so quickly, and bounced around in her sincerity from sentence to sentence. But was it sincerity Alica was sensing? Or was it accuracy? If Valerie truly thought her girlfriend was going to get back together with her, would it feel true even if it never happened? But then Alicia would be able to tell the future, which is a whole other concept to tackle. So it would have to conflict with real facts that exist right now that can be confirmed or disproved.  
  
"Valerie, did you steal a prototype 3D printer from your place of work?"  
  
"I thought you're not supposed to ask if I did it."  
  
"What did you say to the last person that asked you that question?"  
  
"I told him yes." She tried to suppress her embellishment, but couldn't help herself. "But he was my supervisor! I couldn't lie to him!"  
  
No problem stealing from him though. "And where is the prototype now?"  
  
"It's back at the office. I returned it."  
  
"So why do you think your employer is filing this suit?"  
  
"They think I broke it! But it was already malfunctioning, that's why I took it home, I was going to tweak it."  
  
"And did anything happen to it while it was in your custody?"  
  
"Nothing major."  
  
Finally. That felt like a nice smoky lie. Alicia was at a crossroads now. She could ask Valerie the question again and hope for a different answer to illicit a different sensation, or she could confirm through the documentation and questioning other people just what had happened to the prototype in Valerie's unsolicited care. This would determine if it was something about reading the person's tone and micro-expressions or-  
  
Oh. On the other side of the glass, Finn was there. Alicia turned back to her client. "Valerie, would you like to continue this in five minutes?"  
  
"Yeah!" she replied, a bit too enthusiastic about the interrogation being held off. She leaned back in her seat. "I mean, no problem. I'll be here."  
  
Alicia slipped the files back into the manilla folder and stood up, gently placing a strand of hair behind her ear. In the hallway she found Finn leaning against a door frame.  
  
"Comfortable?" she asked.  
  
"Only thing in this office that isn't glass."  
  
Hm. A sweet smoke. Alicia was glad to find whatever her... powers were, they understood jokes are a different sort of lie. But that was a bad train of thought, she still hadn't determined if these sensations were a power at all.  
  
"It's good to see you, Alicia."  
  
Alicia was washed with that warm bright feeling. A tropical wave on a lazy beach. A marshmallow in hot cocoa. She couldn't help but smile. "It's good to see you too."  
  
They stood, silent and smiling, before Alicia remembered where they were. "Oh! Come sit down in my office." She walked him through the door and continued around the desk to her seat. "So what brings you here today, Finn?"  
  
He elegantly settled in the chair, resting one arm behind him and one foot on his knee. "We share something special."  
  
"What?" More of an automatic response than an actual question.  
  
"A murder."  
  
Alicia's eyebrows rose and she blinked twice. "Not quite what I was expecting."  
  
"Oh?" Finn asked, a sinful grin spreading on his face. "Well," he continued. "We do. A new client of mine came in yesterday, telling me that her friend had been framed and when the investigators realize it, she's the next one on the suspect list."  
  
"How dramatic."  
  
"Isn't it just. Well, it so happens that friend of hers is your client, Soren McCall."  
  
"The one accused of killing his girlfriend." Alicia leaned back in her seat, thinking. "So is your client a would-be paramour; jealous ex?"  
  
Finn smiled again. "Actually, they know each other through bi-weekly meetings of the Skeptics Pub Group. Apparently they get together and talk about conspiracies."  
  
"Sounds lovely. Not sure I see the motive, however."  
  
"Neither do I, which is part of what makes her a great client. Obviously innocent and a touch paranoid," he shrugged and smirked. "She's not without her requests though." His expression changed and he leaned forward. "I'm here because she wants to talk to McCall. She wants to get him to confess."  
  
"Ah." Alicia started rolling her pen between her fingers. As a defense attorney, confessions are generally a bad thing. They hand ammunition to the prosecutor, and she'd have to run in circles trying to prove it was coerced and inadmissible. She didn't have time to do that. But she didn't have time for anything, and trials can be unpredictably lengthy. The campaign wouldn't wait for her. If McCall confessed, he'd be far more likely to settle; it would be practically guaranteed. A case resolved and a likely murderer put away: win win. But if she let him get the kind of time a man who confessed to killing his girlfriend gets, she wouldn't be giving him his best representation. Do his rights disappear when his lawyer is busy? She took a breath. "Finn," she prepped. "I can't permit that."  
  
"Mm," Finn responded, leaning back again. "That's what I thought you'd say."  
  
He was telling the truth again, and she was happy to see he wasn't disappointed. Another lawyer just doing the best for their client.  
  
"Well!" he said, getting to his feet. "Message delivered, back to work. No rest for the wicked."  
  
Alicia got up to walk him to the door. "The wicked, are we?"  
  
"Don't say you weren't a little tempted," he said, over his shoulder.  
  
"By the confession?"  
  
"Ha," he cracked, walking down the hall. Alicia watched him go, leaning against the door frame. Only thing not made of glass.  
  
-  
  
Alicia had passed through many prison gates many times. Sometimes as conflicted as she was now, but not often. She was going to see Soren McCall. Charged with murdering his girlfriend, he wouldn't provide an alibi. It didn't look good. It could look over, at least for Alicia. She could get this behind her and satisfy the firm while focusing on her campaign. But however long that grey-tiled hallway grew, this would be the first step. Talking to her client.  
  
"Hello, Mr. McCall."  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Florrick."  
  
The man before her was skinny and small, with an old acid burn on his left hand and round chestnut eyes. He was agitated. "Listen, I need to know that I can trust you."  
  
"Everything we say is protected by attorney–client privilege."  
  
"That's a non-answer. I'm alone in here, it's worse than I thought it would be, and I need someone I can really talk to. These people, "he said, itching at his hand, "they'll eat a person alive, and I'm on the menu. I can't live like that."  
  
Alicia stopped herself from saying 'I understand'; obviously she couldn't and false sympathy wasn't what was needed in this situation. She needed to be forthright. "Mr. McCall, you can trust me. Tell me your side of the story."  
  
He peered at her, and then apparently satisfied, leaned forward and spoke. "First off, it's not my side of the story. There's one story, and there's one reality. The story is I killed Nadia. The reality is the government did it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The government - well, government contractors - killed Nadia and then framed me for it. It's all a big cover up."  
  
Alicia wished she'd spent more time this morning determining what these feelings mean. Because what this guy was saying was ludicrous. And true. And ludicrous. There had to be some error here. What if it just meant he believed it to be true? He could be having paranoid delusions after being unable to process what he'd done. Post traumatic denial manifesting in conspiratorial ideations; those could be real to the brain, chemically. Was belief enough?  
  
And then Alicia had to ask herself, did she believe in her rational mind or her intuition? Which, honestly, was a question she'd rather not answer. So she crossed her legs and made a decision. Instead of having to choose between them, she'd bring them into harmony. That meant data.  
  
"If you've been framed-" she started. No, he needed someone on his side. "In situations like this, there are two prongs in the defense. We need to establish that you couldn't have done it, and that they had motive and means to do it."  
  
"Wait, so you believe me?"  
  
"So far."  
  
Soren smiled at that. "That's good. Be skeptical. Let's begin."  
  
-  
  
Alicia was back in the office with the remains of an avocado tomato sandwich and near endless piles of papers. It was only lunch and she'd gotten a fair amount done.  
  
Valerie Kelling had cracked pretty easily under Alicia's further questioning (confessing she'd tried to tweak the printer which lead to a partially melted motherboard), but she'd also had some dirt on her supervisor, so a settlement was easy to reach. Some signatures to do tomorrow afternoon and they'd be finished.  
  
There was nothing she could do about the car theft case until tomorrow, she'd learned after several calls to a overfull answering machine. Which had now become a pet peeve of Alicia's.  
  
There was no more avoiding it. All that lay ahead of her was Soren McCall's case, and his frankly weak theories. She picked up a bit of crust and chewed while looking over the notes she'd took.  
  
He had met Nadia while working in a government funded lab, where they had formed a relationship and then both gotten fired. Many months later, she was found dead from poisoning. It... wasn't exactly conclusive. He was paranoid and had some clearly obsessive feelings around conspiracies. He wouldn't provide the name of the person he was meeting with on the night in question so as to protect them; so his alibi was still pretty much non-existent.  
  
Alicia hit a wall. How could she begin to prove what she already knew (sensed) was true? She'd always had intuition of some sort or another, but when she considered it, she was used to ignoring it. Shutting it down. Reasoning it away. This was so new.  
  
She could give up, or she could give in.  
  
So she called Finn.  
  
-  
  
"I have a proposition for you," Alicia said, entwining her fingers. She blinked her eyes slowly, following the line of his tie up to his face.  
  
"This is revenge, isn't it?" he smiled.  
  
"There are three outcomes to this case. One: my client is proven guilty and your client is off the hook."  
  
"The likely favourite."  
  
"Two: my client is proven innocent and your client gets put under scrutiny."  
  
"Less favourable."  
  
"And three: my client is proven to be framed, and both our clients are off the hook."  
  
"How nice for our clients. Very difficult to prove, though."  
  
Alicia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thus the proposition. We work together."  
  
Finn squinted a little, considering it. "So you want me to help you?"  
  
"Well, technically it would be mutually-"  
  
"Alright, I'm in," he threw his hands in the air, conceding. "Can't say no to you. When do we begin?"  
  
Alicia had heard that turn of phrase before, on other days, from other people. But today was not like other days. And Finn was not like other people. It wasn't as flippant as he made it sound. Alicia finally felt like this power of hers was invasive; that she was opening doors and seeing things she had no right to. He can't say no to her. Well, obviously there were exceptions, but he believed it enough that when he said it she felt toasty. Comforted. Though the comforted part may not have been part of her new lie detector skill.  
  
"I was hoping- and of course this depends on your schedule- but, before I have to leave later this afternoon? Right now-ish?"  
  
"Right now-ish it is then."  
  
And right then-ish is when her phone rang. She huffed, half-sigh half-laughter. "It's my campaign manager. Sorry, I have to take this."  
  
"No problem," Finn crooned, picking up a file.  
  
Alicia answered the phone and walked over to the window.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Alicia! Good to get a hold of you. We need you for interview prep before the photo op. Where've you been?"  
  
"Where have I been? At my office. And visiting a prison briefly, talking to a client. Doing _my job_."  
  
"You're taking on new clients? Alicia, I don't know how to communicate this more clearly, but we are in a really important phase of the campaign right now, you need to be committed to this like all your staff are committed to you."  
  
"Are you questioning my commitment?" Alicia was ice.  
  
"Please, Alicia. Your relationship to the campaign so far has been a real handicap. Your reticence towards the attack ads that are gonna get you elected and your near constant second guessing of my and Eli's decisions is setting us back, and that's when your focus isn't all over the map. We're supposed to be a team. That can still happen. You need to listen to me, work with me."  
  
"Fine. I'll listen to you. Where were you this morning?"  
  
"What? I was doing my job."  
  
"Mm. You know what? You need me to do interview prep? Good. I think I need to see you face to face."  
  
Alicia wasn't seething. She was bolstering. Johnny and Eli had already been caught making decisions without her, and against her wishes. She knew the campaign world was a fast world, where contemplation and proper deliberation were no go's. It was all lightening strikes; quick and dramatic, bursts of new information that disappeared again in an instant leaving you back in the dark. Staying grounded was a liability. But the campaign world isn't the real world. She had to live in both, and however much she wanted to win, the real world comes first. And in this world, she's a grown woman. You don't get respect by waiting.  
  
Phone down, she turned from the window, looking at Finn. "I need to go. We'll have to do this another time."  
  
"Go get 'em."  
  
Phone up, she put on her game face. "I'll be there in half an hour."  
  
-  
  
Alicia walked into the teen centre AV room like a valkyrie. Johnny was there with the make-up artist, Marissa, and some man she'd never met.  
  
"Alicia, thank god" Marissa said, making room for her amongst the projectors and stacked laptops. "They want to put make-up on the unsuspecting teens."  
  
That was definitely the truth. "What?"  
  
"They're not unsuspecting, I'm sure they'd love some professional make-up done," the new man replied. "Not every day a kid gets in the paper."  
  
"Sorry, wrong question. Why?"  
  
Johnny stepped in. "Some of the teens we had arranged for the photo op, with parents permission and all that. A good half of them have facial rashes."  
  
Alicia stopped herself from laughing.  
  
"We're so grateful that your campaign is highlighting the teen centre. We really appreciate your support." The man was nervous, but sincere. "We just don't want people to think our facilities are unclean or unsafe."  
  
"So you want to put some foundation on the teens being photographed?"  
  
Marissa leaned towards her genially. "It's literally a cover up."  
  
"Wait, did they get the rashes from the centre's equipment?"  
  
There was a pause here.  
  
"There's no way to prove that," Johnny responded casually.  
  
"No," Alicia said. A smooth wave of confidence flowing through her. "I was asking him." She looked towards the teen centre director.  
  
"No, of course they didn't. Our highest priority is the youth's health and safety."  
  
Alicia was suddenly faced with another hazy decision. This man was lying. She'd assumed this was just some fluff photo op with at-risk teens, showing her maternal side and support for preventative crime programs. And it could still serve that purpose. Brush some make-up on them and hopefully it wouldn't further irritate their skin. But if he was lying, that meant he knew exactly how these kids got this way. There was no way she could just say that he was lying though, she didn't have any proof. She'd just walked in here for the first time today, didn't even know his name. So she had to make a guess. Try to pull more out of him, or find another way to get evidence.  
  
"You know, I think I'd really like a tour. Can I have a look at the different programs?"  
  
The teen centre director had not expected that. "Um, I think some of them are still in use right now."  
  
"Perfect! I can see first hand the work that's done here."  
  
"Mrs. Florrick, we're kind of in the middle of-"  
  
"It'll just be a moment." Alicia had a complaint desk smile on. "It'll be good for the interview later."  
  
She trotted out before Johnny or the other man could stop her. Marissa was following along excitedly in her wake.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked, sing-songy.  
  
"Just having a look around. It was so cramped in there."  
  
Marissa squinted a little, but kept following. Alicia of course had no idea where she was going, but the doors were labeled well enough. Approaching the one marked 'science lab' there were some voices, and looking through the door's window there were quite a few teens in there, and some adults in suits. The teen centre director came running up the hall after her.  
  
"It's not what it looks like."  
  
"It's... what does it look like?" Alicia honestly didn't have a guess yet, but this guy looked ready to confess.  
  
"It's just... The youth in there, they're old enough, they can consent."  
  
"Consent to what?" Marissa asked, aghast.  
  
"They're just trying to make a little money. We rent the room out to various studies, and the kids- the youth get paid a little to take part."  
  
"Studies? Are you talking about experiments? You're letting people experiment on these kids!?"  
  
"You're making this more dramatic than it really is. This centre needs money to stay afloat, so we rent out rooms. That's part of why we agreed to host this photo op; to bring some attention here, and some funding. We're on the same side!"  
  
"You are abusing the trust they have in you, and the community has in you to take care of these kids. I'm leaving. This is cancelled." Alicia turned her back and walked briskly down the hall and back to the AV room, where Johnny leaned against a wall, confused.  
  
"All done?" he asked.  
  
"Did you know about it?"  
  
"Did I know about what?"  
  
Alicia was not taking that shit. His eyes widened as he realized.  
  
"Yes," he answered quickly. "And I had some research done this morning to make sure it was all legal, and technically-"  
  
"You didn't think I had a right to know."  
  
"I checked it all out. It's not going to harm the campaign."  
  
"I'm leaving." She made good on her word.  
  
"Alicia!" he called out after her. "We talked about committing to this campaign."  
  
She stopped in her tracks, swivelling her torso. "No. _You_ talked to _me_. But now I'm talking to you. You cannot," she laid out the word like two bricks, "You _cannot_ be committed to this campaign if you are not first committed to me. You need to respect me. This is not a matter for discussion. I don't need you to coddle me, or lie to me. I need you to serve me. Is that clear?"  
  
Johnny nodded.  
  
"Good." Alicia said. "I'm going back to work."  
  
-  
  
As soon as she was back at the firm, Diane beckoned Alicia into her office.  
  
"I didn't think you'd be back today. Didn't you have some campaign events?"  
  
"Cancelled, actually. So I'm back to work." Alicia was trying to sound chipper.  
  
"Mm, I noticed you've really taken to a couple of those cases. The Kelling case is practically resolved, and a clerk told me you have another lawyer aiding with the McCall files? Who is that?"  
  
Alicia felt like she might blush, which was ridiculous. But she did feel a little hesitant. "Finn Polmar. He has a client of his own related to the same crime."  
  
Diane looked skeptical. "It's a domestic murder, there's not exactly potential for a class action."  
  
"Nothing like that," Alicia defended. "I just want to be looking at every angle, and... Mr. Polmar is helping with that."  
  
"Mm." Diane absently tapped a finger on her desk. "If your campaign events are cancelled for this evening, I suppose that means you can attend our wine and cheese mixer."  
  
"A mixer?"  
  
"Well, schmoozing some clients. I suppose mixer is the wrong word. With you coming... could you possibly check Peter's availability? It never hurts to remind people you're the governor's wife."  
  
Diane didn't have any ill intentions, but Alicia's mind reeled at what she'd said. It hurt to remind /her/. She couldn't even imagine being in the same room with Peter in her current condition. Really knowing just how much he lied to her- she worried that could be deafening.  
  
Diane's finger was now loosely drawing a figure eight on the desk. It was her turn to be hesitant. "It could really be a boost for the firm. I worry that with Cary's whole... situation people are forgetting that druglords aren't our only connections. I understand it might be a big ask of you, but..."  
  
"I'll give him a call." Alicia had seen Diane vulnerable too many times already, it didn't suit her. There had to be something more she could do. Even something small. "Diane?"  
  
"Yes, Alicia?"  
  
"Let's both wear red tonight. Show that we're a team."  
  
Diane laughed. "Sure, let's do it."  
  
They both smiled, and Alicia made her exit. She had a phone call to make.  
  
-  
  
She wasn't chickening out by calling Eli instead of Peter. He did most of Peter's scheduling anyway. And she wanted to see what Johnny had told him about the teen centre.  
  
"You need him there by six?" He wasn't as hyped up as he had been that morning. "I might be able to pull that."  
  
"Thank you, Eli."  
  
"Speaking of which, what did you pull at the photo op? I haven't seen anything out of that yet."  
  
Ah, so Johnny had told him nothing. "I didn't do the photo op."  
  
"What?!" There he was again. "Alicia, these are very important demographics where you need a boost, and-"  
  
"No." She laid down the law. "You covered for Johnny this morning, you're not going to cover for him now."  
  
"I wasn't covering for him, I was trying to keep you focused. It wasn't anything shady, he was just doing some fact-checking on the centre and I didn't want you second guessing based on a question rather than the answer. You have enough on your plate."  
  
"So this is for my benefit?"  
  
"Well, I mean, when you put it like that..."  
  
"Here's how I put it, Eli. That centre was allowing experiments on the teenagers it was supposed to support. Kids Grace's age. That's what I was going to be putting my smiling face on."  
  
"It was- What?"  
  
Alicia was expecting another defense, but Eli surprised her.  
  
"I had no idea."  
  
She released a long, sweet breath. He was telling the truth. It was so good to know that Eli had some sort of limit. Some sympathy for her position. He was back in form soon enough.  
  
"We'll have to figure out a different way to get better figures with those demos, but since we haven't saturated the market with photo ops, we could do one tonight at your office. People like when Peter's seen to support you."  
  
 _'Seen to' being the key phrase_ , she was tempted to say. "Okay, but it has to be brief. No statements."  
  
"Deal, it's too last minute for that anyway. I think this is going to work out great, you and Peter are stellar together."  
  
A half lie. He meant it about campaign imagery, but what he said was so vague, it brought up all the drama and tension. She thought about how different this campaign would be without Peter. None of the backroom corruption and bedroom betrayal, but also none of the name recognition. How much was it all worth? And Eli had been there for enough of their bumps to know the struggle around nearly every event. Alicia was starting to get pessimistic about tonight. "It's set then," she said.  
  
"It's going to be great." That one was a husky, gritty smoky feeling. It did not bode well.  
  
-  
  
She wore red. Peter was in a dark grey suit with a light grey tie and plain grey mood.  
  
"Eli said I'd have tonight off," he stated, neutrally complaining.  
  
"Did you have something planned?"  
  
"Not plans exactly. Just some time off for once. Maybe watch some tv."  
  
Lies lies lies. It had already begun, and they were just in the elevator. Trapped, constantly on the move but feeling like everything was still. She tried not to get too metaphorical. With a ding the doors opened, and there was a cornucopia of people in suits and cocktail dresses, swirling and swarming. Alicia suspected she might prefer to just go home and watch some tv.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Florrick! What a pleasant surprise!" a regular client swooped in, pulling them towards the action. Red and white balloons, cheese platters with melting brie and concord grapes, the smell of vanilla and smoke coming off of old men in old tweed blazers.  
  
A different sort of smell of smoke was following Alicia around, inside her head. "Oh what a perfect couple you two are!" "Why, just the other day I was saying how I thought you'd win state's attorney, didn't I?" "If anyone could balance work, family, and politics, it would be you!" It was a constant barrage. Her self esteem was curled up in a ball. It meant something they were willing to lie, she supposed. It meant she was important in some way or another. A valuable ally. She didn't feel like an ally though. She felt under siege.  
  
Peter was laughing too loudly at a real estate developer's golf joke, and Alicia was secluding herself by some merlot. She hadn't drunken any yet. It hadn't even been a full day since she had decided to take a break from alcohol. The memory of that came over her like a storm. Just last night she didn't have this... thing. This ability, knack, curse, gift. Burden.  
  
She felt very alone. Her hand nearly reached for the bottle. But Finn's hand reached for hers first.  
  
-  
  
"Finn!" She was a little too enthusiastic. She smoothed it out, still happy, "I didn't know you'd be here!"  
  
"I hadn't planned on it, seeing as I don't work for this firm, but," he pushed a huddle of balloons aside before continuing, "Considering the amount of paperwork I've drudged through today on the behalf of a named partner, I figured I earned my invitation."  
  
"Of course," she smiled. "I'm sorry I stuck you with all that and disappeared."  
  
"No problem," he said. "I completely understand. Not to be rude, because you do look lovely in that dress, but when I saw you from over there you looked like you'd had a stressful afternoon."  
  
"I've had a stressful life," she countered.  
  
"Ain't that the truth."  
  
And maybe it was, and maybe it wasn't, but there was something profound about someone saying the word 'truth' out loud. She had felt that evening adrift in careless, maybe even unconscious lies, and this felt so much more secure. She had a thought. "You know what's a sign of poor stress management?"  
  
"Do tell."  
  
"Doing work after hours. And avoiding social events."  
  
"Mm, yes, definitely troubling signs." He was looking just as conspiratorial as she had hoped. "You know, I found a scrap of evidence on that case of yours. Let me show you."  
  
-  
  
They were downstairs in his office, where he had copies of her McCall files as well as documents she hadn't seen before. He had really put some work in.  
  
"What's this?" she asked, holding up a spreadsheet with some exclamation marks drawn on in green ink.  
  
"That," he said, with pride, "is the scrap of evidence."  
  
"It looks like a payroll."  
  
"Oh, what happened to the paperclip..." He shuffled around some things on his desk. "Aha! This is the second half of that scrap of evidence. Here you are." He handed it to her.  
  
"It looks like a schedule."  
  
"What it really is - and I know you're going to love this - is a government cover up."  
  
"No way." She couldn't believe he had actually found evidence to back up McCall's claims. Well, she could believe it, obviously, in the same way she believed McCall. But whatever senses she got when people spoke, she still had common sense.  
  
"So you may remember Soren and Nadia both worked at a government funded lab, and that's been confirmed with their W-2s. Don't lie to the taxman, obviously. But! You may notice something on those documents in your hands."  
  
She looked them over casually. "These don't look relevant, they don't have either of their names on here."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"I'm not following."  
  
"Those are from that very same lab at the time Soren and Nadia were working there. Their names have been removed. You can see on the schedule how inconsistent it is; how understaffed it appears."  
  
"A cover up."  
  
"A cover up."  
  
"This..." she started. "This is amazing. I mean it's small, maybe unrelated, but it could be the start of an investigation."  
  
"I know, amazing." He leaned against his desk, fingers wrapped around the edge.  
  
"But also very small. I don't- I'm not trying to undermine what you did. The opposite actually. That you were going through such tedium for something that might not even help your client, it's... Thank you."  
  
There was a pause. They looked at each other, honestly. Then he looked down at his feet, considering his next words. He lifted his head.  
  
"I was thinking about your proposition."  
  
The hairs on Alicia's neck stood up.  
  
"I was thinking about the possibilities you posed. And it made me think about how simply you'd put it. The third outcome was the least likely to happen, and it was the most work to achieve." He ran a hand through his hair. "It put the most on the line, but it was also the best case scenario. And getting there... whatever it took, it was worth doing. Giving it your honest best."  
  
Alicia was overcome. Something she had said, trying to be so logical, and he had sat with it, molding it into this beautiful thought. This beautiful feeling. She was warm; her skin was buzzing.  
  
Finn swallowed, building to a point he was scared of. "I want... I want to give you my honest best. You're... there's nothing better for me. I just want you."  
  
The emotion was plain in his eyes, matched with determination. Alicia didn't think what she might look like. She moved towards him quickly, pressing her lips against his. She kissed him expertly, one hand above his neck making it real. Their mouths moved together just the way she'd imagined so many times. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her body flush against him. He angled his head, pulling at her top lip before teasing her with his tongue. He was so strong and gentle. He wanted this so badly, as she had.  
  
After breathless kisses, they allowed a small space between their flushed faces. His lips whispered against her cheek, her jaw, her neck. "I'll be so good to you, I promise," he said it so quiet, nearly a prayer.  
  
She breathed it in, holding him even closer. "I trust you."


End file.
